The fire was still burning as dawn broke.
The first rays of sunlight bled over the horizon, cutting through the smog and smoke that curled above the now-ruined estate. Firefighters moved in and out of the building like shadows, extinguishing hotspots and pulling debris away from what was once Victor’s sanctuary of secrets.Killian stood at the edge of the caution tape, arms crossed, suit jacket slung over his shoulder. His white shirt was stained with smoke and blood, one sleeve torn. There was a cut on his cheek, and dried blood on his knuckles—but his eyes were clear for the first time in months.Next to him, Elena sat on the back of an ambulance. A medic had cleaned the shallow graze on her arm, wrapped it in gauze, and offered her a blanket. She hadn’t spoken much since they emerged from the fire. She hadn’t needed to.She’d pulled the trigger. She’d ended it.And now… it was quiet.Too quiet.Killian approached her
